kingtycoon | (no subject)

I really ought to get this down while I'm in the mood to do it, to be circumspect and a little thoughtful about the course of things. I don't know if I mentioned it here but I probably did because I kind of yell it at people, but it's, you know — my desperation to seem like I'm not just utterly without ability or utility of any kind — but I did really make 17 books last year — so I feel like it's not my fault that I didn't keep this up to date as well as it could have been. Now I worry that this reads as some kind of false modesty fake humility thing, I don't know. I don't fucking know, I went crazy. I had a crazy year last year and... Fuck, you'd know if I was bragging, because it'd be about how handsome I am. Bragging about the things you do is like bragging about the stuff you know. Anyone else can if you can.

So yeah — I'm still pretty crazy I suppose if I think achievements aren't ever enough but purely arbitrary physicality is the only essential virtue. Hey, good for me.

Anyhow I probably only sold enough books to be able to fuck up my tax situation anyway... Perverse incentives.

Oh — so here's the meat of it — lately, I was terribly sick all weekend — deliriums and everything it was terrible. I lost track of days and woke up to the alarm on monday and went to work out of spite (?) I had this whole hostile attitude about how if I didn't go I'd be scolded, which would have been true — there's a lot of official sarcasm going on at that place and I'm getting more and more hostile to it, fucking don't sass me. But then people were nice while I was there and they asked me if I shouldn't just go home and so I did, and then I worked at home on Tuesday and everything was alright. But I worked a lot, and I have been and I... My attitude about my job is that I only like it to a certain point — and really it's easy to push past that point & especially this — if I wanted to work really hard; I would get a better job. It's that whole thing where I resent having to work at all, that I write my congressional delegation angry letters when they go on and on about jobs- because they can't conceive of a social order not based upon making rich people richer at the expense of the lives of others. I like my job, but only to a point where I'm not made to think hard & often that I'm just wasting 10 hours of all my days to make rich people a little bit richer.

So normally on tuesday me and A hang out a little & she hit me up to beg off saying she'd been ill & know all about that and said I'd had the same situation an it was tough. Yesterday was fine, it was an alright day just generally but also really busy and I'm starting to crack, you see, because I can only tolerate so many fucking daily emails before I want to re-break the email system (the sabotage of which I've had to spend the first two weeks of the year arduously repairing). Plus our website went down, hard, and that sort of feels like my responsibility... Ugh. I just wanna be left alone! I got weird. Then I'm catching the bus up the hill & it's stupidly late and I have to take a different one and walk a longass way besides and cross a lot of streets where the cars are aggressive — I had to punch this car a lot and hurt my paw — this was back around christmastime, actually — because it tried to hit me, in the crosswalk, I had to jump away and then I got so mad and chased it and was hitting it and they sped off, like real fast down euclid — it was a whole dumb thing. And so... mad about things. I walk home last night, all mad about things and kind of in a rush because A's messaged me saying she's coming over — and I'm not sure why because we always have different plans on wednesday. This seems, eh, I don't know what it seems like, she's about to be 15 and obviously I want to hang out with her when I can, but she's like, she needs to get out more. I get suspicious when she wants to spend a lot of time at our house because... I'm a bad person? Sometimes she wants to IM with someone unimpeded, which I'm good about — so she'll want to come over and it's because she's got some girl on the line, or some new map is available on the video game she likes. I mean — always she wants to hang out and we love being with each other, but... I kind of stumble home in icy dark and she shows up eventually and she took some half-chat we had on IM to mean I was gonna make a big dinner? I felt crummy because, well I got nothing — I was so sick the other day it took all I had to just limp to the drug store for medicine & cookies — which is what got me through but I mean I couldn't really even lift up the coffee carafe to make coffee properly — I was crazy sick. Maybe I am a little still? Crazy part mainly. Anyway I put together a little bit of quesadilla for her and we watched an X-Men movie and talked about the X-Men and their overwhelming superiority to Harry Potter.

Then she helped me take out the trash and I walked her back to her mom's house and we had a little bit of discussion, an okay talk. I love her. I think about how she's almost 15, I'm in a kind of rush about this — I can't remember ages that well, I remember middle-school self and early teens — those weren't good times for me, I feel like my folks were pretty mad at me all the time too — I get it, I see what it was about — impatience growing, especially when you see kids in the neighborhood who can & do — on their own. Some with hustle, trying to sell candy or whatever, rake leaves, being baristas. I think about how much I worked at that age. I'm getting to a place where I'm probably gonna fall down on my fatherly graces cause I'm starting to expect a bit of performance, y'know? Hustle. But we have a good talk, about a little of that even.

I come home and lay down and feel so much better so suddenly, which is weird because I'd been in bed for about three solid days out of the preceding 5. But I felt better all over and I thought about what it would be like to be 15 at old Professor X's school and fell right to sleep.